


Where My Love Lies Waiting Silently For Me

by edgarallanrose



Series: Season 13 Codas and Ficlets [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13X04, But I Can't Wait for 13X05 to Write It, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s13e04 The Big Empty, M/M, Post-Episode: s13e04 The Big Empty, Slightly Preemptive Reunion, Smooching, heavy handed symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 17:54:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12636186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgarallanrose/pseuds/edgarallanrose
Summary: Cas stood at the bunker door. He straightened his tie. He planted his feet.He knocked.And he waited.The door opened a small crack, and then widened to reveal Sam Winchester pointing a gun at him.Episode Coda for 13X04: The Big Empty





	Where My Love Lies Waiting Silently For Me

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 13X04 (duh). Title from Simon and Garfunkel's "Homeward Bound." Unbeta'd.

It was dark by the time Castiel found a payphone.

The flickering yellow light of the truck stop sign promised salvation. He had collected change along the road, and found enough spare dimes and nickels by the gas pumps to make a call. He pressed the phone to his ear, held his first coin up to the slot, and hesitated. What would he say? How could he begin to explain?

 _I don’t know where I am,_ Cas suddenly realized. Then, aloud,

“I should tell him where I am.”

An electronic bell sounded as he opened the door of the gas station. Castiel waited behind a man purchasing cigarettes before he could speak to the attendant.

“Find everything okay?” The girl asked, smacking her gum, not seeming to notice or care that he did not have something to purchase.

“I just had a question,” Cas said. “Where exactly am I?”

The girl stopped chewing her gum, mouth hanging slightly open.

“Lebanon.”

“Kansas?”

“Missouri.” She narrowed her eyes. “Boy, how long you been driving?”

“Thank you, that’s…that’s very helpful,” Cas said, silently cursing the creature from the Empty, certain that this had not been confusion, but a very unfunny joke. “Have a good night.”

Cas stalked back to the payphone, past the man who had purchased the cigarettes and was already smoking near the trash cans, and fed his change into the machine.

Cas’ stomach flipped when the dial tone began. _What do I say?_ The phone rang three times. He wasn’t going to pick up. Or he wasted his change on the wrong number. Or worse, maybe he wasn’t even –

“What?” barked a gruff voice from the receiver.

“Dean.” Cas breathed for what felt like the first time since he felt the Earth beneath his feet again.

“Hello? Who the hell is this?”

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, willing his voice not to tremble, “It’s me, it’s –”

_Click._

Cas blinked. Of course. He should have expected this.

He pulled the remaining change out of his pocket and cursed under his breath. He was thirty cents short of another phone call. That is, if Dean would even pick up this time.

“You seem a little down on your luck, friend,” the man with the cigarettes said, scratching his beard.

“On the contrary, I’ve had an extremely lucky day,” Cas said. “It just seems that my luck has at last run out.”

“Ain’t that always the way.” The man’s chuckle turned into a chest rattling cough, his still lit cigarette dangling from his lips. “Where you headed?”

“Lebanon…Kansas.”

“Well, points for trying. But I tell you what; I’m en route to Hastings and pass right through Lebanon if you wanna hitch a ride.”

“That’s extremely kind of you to offer.”

“Kind nothin’. Don’t bother me none.” He stubbed out his cigarette. “You ain’t armed, are ya?”

Cas patted the lining of his coat and turned out his pockets to find, to his dismay, he was not. But the trucker nodded.

“We’ll be driving through the night. Last call.”

Cas followed the man to his truck, a large semi with the logo for an Orange Juice brand on the side with a smiling cartoon Sun.

“So,” the man began as the pulled out onto the highway, “leaving home?”

“No. Going home.”

\---

Dawn had just broken over the horizon when Cas was dropped at a truck stop a few miles from the bunker, promising he could walk from that point forward.

 _There’s always the chance they won’t be there_ , Cas thought. _I imagine they’re working a case._

Cas didn’t have a plan beyond finding the Winchesters.

 _Though I wonder what became of the baby, of Jack._ Cas’ heart sank. He should’ve been there for Jack. Kelly had put her faith in him, and he let her down. Perhaps he had time still to make things right.

\---

Cas stood at the bunker door. He straightened his tie. He planted his feet.

He knocked.

And he waited.

The door opened a small crack, and then widened to reveal Sam Winchester pointing a gun at him.

“What are you?” he snarled.

“Sam,” Cas said, hands up, “it’s me.”

“No,” he lowered the gun for a split second before raising it again, “it can’t be. We burned the body.”

“Get the holy water then,” Cas pleaded, “and silver. It’s okay, I can wait here.”

Sam stared him down for several long seconds before his arms finally fell to his sides.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Sam.”

“Christ, Cas,” he said, pulling him into a hug, thumping him hard on the back, then pulling back and looking him hard in the eyes. “What did Dean do?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you.”

“I’ll go get him,” he said, “I’ll go and – here, come in, you should still be able to get past the warding. Dean didn’t – well, I made sure you still could. Just in case.”

Cas fought back tears.

“Thank you, Sam.”

Cas stood anxiously in the war room, shifting his weight back and forth as Sam raced down the hallway. Not much time could have passed since his death. It looked very much the same, if perhaps a little more unkempt than usual. Dean had always been very particular about keeping it neat. They had probably just been busy.

Cas looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, and was met by bright green eyes.

“No,” Dean said, his voice choked. “Sammy.”

“It’s him, Dean.”

“It was just a dream,” Dean said. “Last night I had a dream…because it can’t really be –”

“It is,” Cas said, finally finding his voice, hating the sight of Dean standing there practically shaking, eyes wet and angry, “and last night, too. It was me. Please, Dean.”

“How?” he hissed. “How can it be you?”

“That’s something of a long story.”

\---

He told them of the Empty, of waking from eternal slumber, the creature, the gas station, the truck driver. Sam sat at the table with him and listened. Dean paced the room.

“But what woke you up?” Sam asked.

“I thought it was the two of you.”

“Do you think it could’ve been Jack?” Sam asked Dean. Dean vehemently shook his head.

“Jack? Is he here?” Cas asked. “May I see him?”

“Maybe later,” Sam said, sharing a look with Dean that Cas couldn’t discern. “He’s still sleeping.”

“Of course,” Cas nodded. He recalled something about babies needing a lot of sleep.

They were silent for a moment. Sam cast glances between him and Dean.

“Maybe I should go to the kitchen, make breakfast,” Sam said, starting to get up.

“Don’t bother, Sam,” Dean said, running a hand down his tired face. “First of all, you’re about as subtle as a brick. Also, you can’t cook for shit.”

“We have cereal…”

“I think I’ll just go back to my room,” Dean said, making real eye contact with Cas for the first time since he arrived before walking away.

Cas looked to Sam.

“Go,” Sam mouthed, “go with him.”

Dean didn’t look back or acknowledge Cas in any way as he followed down the hallway, but when they reached Dean’s bedroom he said,

“Close the door behind you.”

Cas had barely finished doing so before Dean’s arms were tight around him, his face buried in his neck. He was taking big gulping breaths, shoulders shaking.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said, running his fingers through Dean’s hair. He said it again and again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

When Dean finally pulled away, face red and splotchy, eyes swollen, Cas was overwhelmed by the intense urge to kiss him. He tore his eyes away from that face, that mouth.

“You can’t,” Dean started, taking another steadying breath, “you can’t come here, just showing up on our doorstep, if you’re going to leave again.”

Cas frowned. “I have no intention of leaving.”

“I mean it, Cas.”

“So do I, Dean,” Cas said, placing a hand against the side of his face. Dean looked at him with wide, scared eyes and Cas wondered if it was too much. “Dean, please. I’m so sorry.”

Dean placed his hand over Cas’.

“All these pleases and sorrys,” Dean said, almost laughing. “Why don’t you say what you mean?”

“I don’t understand.”

Dean took a step closer. “Ask me, Cas. Ask me so I can give it to you, ‘cause I don’t think I can do it otherwise.”

“What do you –” Cas paused. It was his turn to look at Dean, wide-eyed and scared. “Please, Dean.”

“Ask me,” Dean begged, his hand already reaching towards Cas’ face.

“Kiss me. Please, kiss me.”

And he did. It was soft, chaste and warm. Dean tugged on the lapels of his coat and brought their chests together, deepened the kiss.

Cas had finally come home.

**Author's Note:**

> I had to join the party of everyone writing the ~reunion after the last ep. Though it'd probably be more appropriate following the next ep, I couldn't get this out of my head and had to share immediately ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Bear with me for a moment of shameless self-promo... If you haven't already checked it out my [DCBB](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12590400/chapters/28676316%0A) posted this week! I am very proud of it and the art is amazing, so that's available if you're interested!
> 
> I am also over yonder on [tumblr dot com.](https://www.edgarallanrose.tumblr.com)
> 
> Thanks for reading, friends <3


End file.
